


i know there's more than one place to call home

by wwwjudedotcom



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Jesse Manes is mentioned, M/M, canon typical mention/description of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:40:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29058387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwwjudedotcom/pseuds/wwwjudedotcom
Summary: Alex goes to a family dinner and gets some answers.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	i know there's more than one place to call home

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon on tumblr, the prompt was "Malex as reluctant attendees at a family dinner" where I got to pick the family and clearly it got out of hand, but it did start as a family dinner, so I think it counts! (I might also write a family dinner fic with the pod squad and the humans who know about aliens so stay tuned.)
> 
> Title from birdie by mxmtoon

“I don’t want to do this, I do not want to do this,” Alex could barely breathe as he sat in the passenger seat of Michael’s truck.

“Alex, it’s gonna be fine. Greg will be there, and you said Flint’s been better lately, right? That’s two allies, plus I’ll be there the whole time. Anything you need, I’ll be right there.”

Alex noticed Greg’s car and Flint’s truck in his mom’s driveway; Michael parked on the street.

It’d been twenty years since the last time Alex saw his mother. Since she packed her car and drove off without her sons, without Alex. And then Greg had called, said she was trying this time, that she wanted to see Alex. Greg had more memories of her than he had, so Alex figured if he could forgive her for leaving… Why couldn’t he try?

Alex was regretting his logic, regretting dragging Michael into all of this.

“Maybe we should just turn around? Tell her I got sick or something? We could reschedule?”

“Alex,” Michael turned to face him, pulling their faces closer together, “We’re already here. We can’t back out now, but I promise whatever happens, it’s going to be okay.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can, I can promise that because even if everything goes to shit in there, we can walk out and get in the truck and drive away. But you have to try. You have to walk through that door first.”

Alex nodded, forcing all his emotions into a box for the next few hours. His face slipped into a mask as he got out of the truck, and he only regretted it when he saw Michael’s reaction.

“I’m still here. I just- I can’t let her see…” Alex paused, but Michael nodded like he understood.

The door opened before Alex could knock.

“Alex,” It came out like a whisper, like his mother couldn’t summon enough courage to say anything else.

His mom looked smaller than he remembered. But his eight year old brain barely remembered her at all.

“Hi, I’m Michael, Alex’s…” Michael turned to Alex.

Michael’s hesitance shook Alex out of his trance.

“He’s the love of my life.”

And if his voice shook, nobody acknowledged it. His mom smiled and shook Michael’s hand. There was an awkward silence where Greg ushered them inside and through to the backyard. It was quiet, and Alex preferred it like that, even if it was vaguely awkward. But there was no loud music and no screaming. It was just the sound of clinking forks against plates. But Alex knew, deep down, it was too tense. It was as if the silence was waiting for something else. His eyes were locked on his mom, and after a few minutes of small talk between Greg and Michael, Alex spoke up.

“Why?”

By the look on his mother’s face, he knew he didn’t need to specify.

“Alex, I-“ She stopped, looking half a second from crying.

“Sorry, I, I shouldn’t have,” Alex stumbled over his words, trying to take it back.

“Don’t be sorry,” Michael whispered to Alex, grabbing his hand.

“Alex, you deserve an answer,” His mom spoke up this time.

His eyes shot from Michael to his mom. Alex wasn’t expecting her to say anything, although he wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting. But an answer sounded like something he wanted, even if it couldn’t make up for growing up with Jesse Manes as a father.

He could feel her take a deep breath. It was the kind of breath he’d learned in therapy, the kind to ground you, to make you feel safe.

“I’m not mad,” Alex said, quickly realizing this was true.

Tears started to form in her eyes, but Alex’s face remained unchanged. She nodded, then continued.

“Um, the night before I left, after dinner, Jesse,” His mom stopped.

“You don’t have to-“

“I do, Alex. You spent twenty years thinking your mother left you. And I did, but it’s not all of it. I tried to take you with me. All of you,” She looked at Greg and Flint; neither looked surprised, “The night before, he strangled me. He told me some, some pretty messed up shit I won’t repeat. I think that was the moment I realized what he was capable of. I packed the car that night after he went to bed. I packed a suitcase for each of you.”

Alex’s eyes widened, and his face was barely covering his emotions. His mother hadn’t meant to leave him. She wanted him. He had been wanted. Michael seemed to sense that Alex was feeling overwhelmed, so he rested a hand on his thigh, rubbing soothing circles, trying to push only good thoughts through his fingertips.

“I wanted to take you, I promise, Alex. But he caught me packing your suitcase. It was the last one. God, I was so close. I was so fucking close. But he must have heard me. He told me to leave, told me I would never see any of you again. You know better than anyone how much power he had. How many people were under his thumb. I didn’t know how to fight him and win.”

She stopped again. Alex heard his own words echo in his head. He focused on Michael’s hand while he nodded in understanding, trying to encourage her to keep going, if she wanted.

“He ripped the suitcases from my hands, only yours, not my own. He handed me the keys to the car like he was just sending me out for groceries. I wanted to say goodbye, but I didn’t. I was scared. I’m not trying to excuse what I did. I just, I want you to understand I wanted to take you with me. My only hope was that you would be safe because you were his children. I hadn’t seen him hurt any of you at that point. I know I was wrong now, and I’m so, so sorry.”

She rested her head in her hands, trying to stop the flood of tears. Alex could see the amount of control she had to not break out into sobs. He admired it. He was also conflicted. How could he blame her for being afraid when he’d been afraid of his father his whole life? How could he forgive her for leaving when she knew what he was capable of?

Alex turned to Michael, letting his mask drop for a fraction of a second so Michael could see what he was feeling. Michael always knew exactly what Alex was thinking and feeling (if Alex let him and even sometimes when he didn’t). Michael wrapped Alex in a hug, squeezing as tight as he could, trying to transfer his courage to him. It worked, and when they broke apart, Alex cleared his throat.

“Thank you, for sharing that. I’m, I don’t know if I can forgive you yet. I, I want to. I really do, but,” Alex had to clear his throat a few more times before the words could come out, “He almost killed me, so many times. He smashed Michael’s hand into pieces, strangled me until I passed out. He made one of the best days of my life into the worst.”

Michael was crying, but Alex’s mask was firmly in place for his final sentence, “I don’t know that knowing you wanted to take me makes a difference if you didn’t actually take me.”

Alex stood up, hand clenched around his crutch. Michael stood up with him, ready to follow his lead.

“Thank you for dinner and for telling me. I think I just need some time.”

Alex’s mom nodded, still crying. Greg hugged him before he left, Flint didn’t do anything, and Michael just said an empty thank you before following Alex to his truck. 

Alex didn’t say anything the whole forty minute drive to the cabin. He didn’t say anything when he unlocked his door and Michael followed him inside. And he didn’t say anything as he removed his prosthetic and changed into sweatpants while Michael waited on the couch. When he finally sat down, he could feel Michael’s gaze on him, waiting but not pushing.

“How could she not take us? How could she not take me?” His voice broke on his last word.

Alex broke on his last word. He hated breaking, hated everything about it, but he had to. Michael was safe, was someone he could trust to put him back together. And just like Alex knew he would, Michael gathered him in his arms and let him sob.

It was nearly an hour later when Alex finally stopped crying and looked up at Michael. He looked almost worse than Alex did. It was obvious Michael had been crying too even though Alex hadn’t noticed earlier, and his face looked like he was running through a million thoughts each second. Alex wiped his own eyes, and then Michael’s.

“What are you thinking about in there?” Alex asked softly, tapping the side of Michael’s head gently.

“Nothing you need to worry about, babe,” Michael’s voice cracked, and Alex gave him a very pointed look.

“If she took you, we never would have met.”

Michael said it so simply, like it wasn’t going to shatter Alex when he heard it. How could he say anything to that, to the truth? If his mother took him, so many things would have been different. Everything would have been different. Michael broke the silence, clearly not wanting to dwell on the subject.

“Do you regret going?”

“No,” And Alex found it was the truth, “I’m glad I know what happened, even if it doesn’t change anything.”

“It doesn’t change anything?”

“Not really. I still grew up with my dad, I still went to war, I still ended up here. The end result is the same, even if she wanted to take me.”

It was clear Michael didn’t know what to say. Alex wondered if this was how Michael would feel when he finally found the answers about his family. If it was, Alex would be there to hold him while he broke too.

There was a long, easy silence, and then, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think that me ending up here is a bad thing.”


End file.
